An Honorable Man
by Krys Hawke
Summary: When repeated visits to one particular debtor becomes more than business for Tom Tanaka. TomxOC.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I felt like our dear Tom Tanaka needed a little love, so here's what I came up with. Reviews are loved, especially since this is my first attempt at sitting down and writing in a while._

**Chapter One: _Naomi_**

"You could help, you know." I swiveled my head to look back over my shoulder as my boyfriend – _Or the guy I call my boyfriend anyway. Why do I have him living here, to be his maid?_ – walked by, as though I wasn't on my hands and knees scrubbing motor oil stains he had tracked into the apartment out of the tile.

As usual, I got no response. Ignorance was bliss, and he was one of the most blissful people I'd ever met in my twenty-four years. Funny, I always seemed to exist just fine when he needed money or dinner... Heh, for the next week or so I certainly wouldn't. Not that the man would actually be smart enough to pair his crime up with my punishment.

I rocked back on my heels, keeping track of his path as he kept moving toward the bedroom, a beer in hand. "Hey, seriously?" I asked indignantly. "I give myself one day off a week, and you're going to make me spend it cleaning by myself?"

Shuya glanced back, hesitating mid-step as he cast me a look that _might_ have counted as disgruntled. Concern or even pity – not that I'd want that from him – wasn't a part of it though. Distaste for work, that was him all over. "You're doin' fine, Sugar. 'Sides, the place isn't that dirty. You'd get it done a lot faster on your own, without me stumblin' all around, getting in your way." With that, he waved a hand, as though to say _go on, continue, don't waste your time on little old me_, and walked away.

"Don't call me 'Sugar'," I snapped, seething, as I tossed the scrub brush aside and traded it out for a polish rag I'd had draped over my shoulder. There was no point in arguing with him, he would just tune me out, and the work had to get done, regardless of who did it. Time spent on him _was_ a waste of it. The man would never change.

A knock on the door interrupted my overly enthusiastic polish assault on the hallway tile. I paused, and after a moment the knock came again. Okay, so whoever it was wasn't going away. The question was, who could it be so late in the day on a Sunday?

"Can you get that?" I called back to Shuya. "Kinda busy in here, you know." Again... No reply. Shocker. Though there was another, slightly less patient knock at the door, with a familiar male voice coming, muffled but strong, around the solid wood.

"Shuya Watanabe! We know you're here, open up! We're here to collect!"

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Again? Really? This _had_ to be a mistake.

Please, let this be a mistake.

Getting up from the floor, I tossed the rag back over my shoulder and moved to answer, since Shuya _definitely_ wasn't if he'd heard _that_ call, and I didn't want to add fixing a kicked-in door to my list of things I needed to do today. Not that I would blame our visitors. They always gave fair warning before they went that far.

And at least they were working.

Sure enough, I opened the door to find two men that, after the last time, I had thought I'd never have to see again. Partners, both dressed neatly and professionally, if in a mismatched fashion: one in a brown suit and dreadlocks, his taller companion in the black and white bartender outfit with dyed blond hair lingering just behind him, an unlit cigarette in his mouth as he kept an eye out through blue tinted shades.

"Good evening, Tom. And you, Shizuo," I greeted as pleasantly as I could, forcing a smile, although I felt like a slob. I was dressed for cleaning; no makeup on, my hair thrown up in a ponytail with bits trailing free. This just wasn't anyone's day. "Is there anything I can do for you gentlemen?" Maybe it _was_ beating around the bush, but it felt like it would be rude to be blunt with them, and, frankly, these two men didn't deserve that attitude.

And even if they did, I'd have to be a little stupid to give it in front of Shizuo Heiwajima. I wasn't scared of him, even though he was Tom's bodyguard. As far as I was concerned, I had no reason to be. He didn't seem like a bad guy, but... Well, I figured his reputation couldn't have just come completely from thin air. There had to be some truth in it.

Tom raked a hand through his dreadlocks, brow furrowing slightly as he looked first at me, then cast a cursory glance around what of the apartment he could see behind me. I hadn't exactly kept the door narrow. I had no intention on giving them a hard time. The last time they had come to collect on Shuya's debts, I had held them up, trying to strike a deal to get my boyfriend some extra time to pay. I'd sworn on my own reputation that the debt would be paid, and, from me, that wasn't a small matter. I kept my promises and I kept my name clean. I was a school teacher, I had honor that needed to be upheld. Shuya had used this as a distraction to flee.

Out the window.

Down a drain pipe. And he'd dragged my pride on his heel on the way down.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Naomi. We're here to see Shuya again. He owes the boss..."

I'd stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture with my arm for them to come in before he could even tell me the amount. "He's in the back room. Help yourselves. Just please try not to break anything I'll have to clean up."

I wasn't doing it again. They were welcome to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:_ Tom_**

The name on my list was Shuya Watanabe. It wasn't the first time his name had been there, though it was only the second time it had been accompanied by the address of one Naomi Tsukino. Don't know what the likes of him was doing with a woman like her. She'd been a lady from the moment we showed up at her door, using the kind of manners most people used for speaking with a lawyer, politician, or doctor, not a debt collector and his bodyguard. Him? Every time Shizuo and I were sent to track him down, he gave the same performance. Shot off excuses and tried to run. Most of the time he'd slipped away. A couple of times, he hadn't.

Considering what Shizuo did with the people who didn't get away, you'd think that alone would have been enough to put him on the straight and narrow. Guess he wasn't all that bright. Whatever, that was his problem.

But the fact that he was hiding behind a woman like this, turning into a repetitive problem for her, that was irking me. He was a coward that literally turned tail and ran from responsibility when it came knocking, just like most of my... I guess the best word for them would be targets. 'Clients' just seemed pretentious, seeing as _they_ weren't hiring me for anything.

Naomi, on the other hand, she was the opposite. I could still remember the look on her face when we'd come by that first time – how long ago had that been, not quite a month ago? – and this boyfriend of hers had crawled out the window to get away from us. She had gone pale as a sheet, stared with a look on her face that suggested she was either about to go after him herself or cry, then just blushed and stammered her way through an emphatic apology to both me and Shizuo for the way he was wasting our time. And a few days later, our boss had received payment in full, in the mail, along with a note of apology, one that had clearly been fed to Shuya word-by-word by Naomi herself.

There was no way that guy knew how to say sorry so well.

So I guess I shouldn't have been all that surprised when, this time, she didn't even try to make any excuses for him. Green eyes hardened in resignation above her smile and she stepped aside, welcoming the two of us in without any warning to the boyfriend.

Man, guys who pissed off their women were stupid. No one knew how to get revenge better than an angry woman.

Since this was my job, I led the way to the back room, feeling Shizuo looming at my heels. I wasn't sure, but I was betting Naomi was bringing up the rear to watch the show.

When we filed into the bedroom Shuya was holed up in, again, he jerked upright so fast he spilled his can of beer all over himself and his already stained shirt – and Naomi's bed – in his hurry to drop it and scramble to his feet. At that, I heard a soft, annoyed, sigh from the doorway, and spared a brief glance back to the door to see Naomi behind Shizuo, leaning in the doorway. Between the two of them, that exit was pretty much blocked.

"W-What're these guys doin' here, Naomi?" he demanded, trying and failing to quell the way his voice shook. It took him that long to recover from the shock of his girlfriend barring the doorway, shoulder against one side of the frame, leaning so that her legs stretched across it and her sneakered heel was jammed into the other side. Once he did, he bolted straight to the window.

The same window he'd escaped from the first time? Yupp, that window. I tensed up, and Shizuo had already started forward to grab him before he could get out, again. Naomi, though, I couldn't help but notice the satisfied smile on her face. _What's up with her? Wasn't she upset the last time he got away?_

When the window didn't open, I found out why she looked so confident. Panicked, Shuya jerked at the lock, which also didn't budge, looking frantically over his shoulder. Even Shizuo had paused, head tilted as he watched the scene unfold.

"What the hell, Naomi? Wh-what'd you have done to the window?"

"I seem to recall you used it to climb down the building last time this happened. While I tried to schedule a time for you to pay, you responded by fleeing like a monkey." Her tone had been idle, a little flat, but now it dropped to a subzero chill. "I am your girlfriend. Not a zookeeper. I will not have the issue confused again. That window is now purely decorative." She gave a careless shrug, betrayed by the icy ferocity in her eyes. "I have central air for a reason, after all."

Oh yeah, pissing off a smart woman like Naomi was not a good move at all.

Shuya looked nervously between me and Shizuo (but mostly at Shizuo) and turned back to face the room, since his method of escape clearly wasn't going to work.

"I-I don't have your money! Y-you might as w-well get outta here and go on to someone who can pay!"

If I had a yen for every time I heard lines like that, I could probably pay his debt for him myself and still treat the four of us to lunch.

And if I had one for every time Shizuo tossed a target, I wouldn't have to do this job anymore.

He grabbed Shuya by the shirt as soon as the sentence was out of his mouth, effortlessly lifting him off the floor to his level. As laser beam intent as my friend's stare was over his shades, Shuya was lucky. Shizuo hadn't been set off – yet – by his antics. This was just intimidation. And for someone as good at it was Shizuo was, this was mild. Going by the way Naomi gave a little flinch, everyone in the room knew that.

Vaguely, I wondered if the cringe was more for the boyfriend or for the potential damage to her apartment.

Wait, why did I care? It was likely that the fact that Shizuo and I even had to come to her door was the biggest embarrassment she had to suffer – aside from her wimp of a man. Did I have any right to wonder what she was thinking or feeling? I barely knew the woman.

"You sure you can't pay up?" Shizuo asked in a bored, almost lazy drawl, ducking his head to get right in Shuya's face. The guy, swinging like an oversized, not particularly attractive kitten from Shizuo's fist, shrunk in on himself, eyes fearfully pinned on Shizuo's face.

"I can't! I don't have it! I literally don't _have_ it!"

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy," Naomi pressed her knuckles to her forehead, sounding – and looking – irritated. "Shuya, stop this. Be a man and pay them!"

"I don't have the money, Naomi! You should know that!"

She should know that? Hang on. Did that mean this deadbeat was _broke _and had _her _going around paying for him? Okay, that was low. Maybe I should ask Shizuo to beat him up, just on principle. Gah, no, Shizuo didn't like to get violent. It was bad enough he couldn't help it, he didn't need me _asking_ him to compromise his morals. Couldn't do that to my friend.

Naomi's cheeks were flushed red as she eyed her boyfriend, still swaying in Shizuo's grip. Apparently, she found the truth in whatever she saw there, because she swiveled moodily on her heel to face me. As much as I hate to admit it, I jerked back at first, pretty sure she was going to smack me. Hey, she was a feisty girl. You really never knew on this job.

But then her hand dipped into the pocket of her faded jeans.

"How much does he owe you again?" she asked simply, flipping a wallet into her palm and unfolding it, dipping her fingers in with the bills and waiting patiently on my response, her back turned firmly to Shizuo and Shuya. I could practically read the thoughts in the set of her face; _Ignore them, deal with one crisis at a time._

"Wait, you're gonna pay?" I could hear the hesitation in my own voice. "Naomi, it's not your-"

"Tom," she cut me off, but her tone was patient. Polite and level. She gave me a small 'let it go' kind of smile. "How much?"

I told her and she briskly counted out the bills, handing them over to me without complaint, closing her wallet. Brushing a stray spiral curl out of her face, she looked back up with a smile that was just a little too bright to be believable. "Now, I'm going out on a walk. Do what you wish with him," she jerked her thumb at Shuya. "And I think you can let yourselves out when you're done? Please lock the door behind you." She bobbed her head briskly. "Have a good day, gentlemen."

And with that, she turned on her heel and left the apartment.

Shizuo and I exchanged a glance. He arched an eyebrow. I shrugged. He dropped Shuya, and we left, locking up behind us, as promised. I looked up and down the hallway, but I didn't see Naomi. That girl must have hit the hall running.

With the road this guy was on, I kinda hoped she kept running and didn't look back.

Through the next couple of hours, Shizuo and I worked our way down the list. Typical day. Some people paid. Some people were "mysteriously absent" from their listed location, and some argued and/or ran. And those people usually ended up being chucked. Literally. Not sure why he wasn't immune to these idiots yet. It was always the same song and dance, we could even predict it most of the time. Especially Shizuo himself, with his uncanny instinct for trouble. But whatever. Shizuo was Shizuo. You took him as-is, or you found yourself in a sticky situation you really didn't want to be in.

For once, we'd managed to finish the list before dusk. Wandering through town, I looked back over it, noting the places we'd have to revisit tomorrow. For today, my job was over. Far as I was concerned, all that might happen now was we might chance across Izaya – and God did I hope we didn't, who knew how long _that _fight would take to die down – but honestly, that wouldn't really be my problem either, as long as I stayed out of the way. And as long as it stayed away from my apartment. I didn't need it to become collateral damage either.

"Hey." Shizuo's blunt way with words had a knack for stopping me in my tracks, even though he didn't sound tense or angry. Just distracted. Maybe a bit thoughtful. "Isn't that the lady we ran into earlier? Naomi, right?"

Yeah, it was... Across the street, at an outdoor café. She was slumped down at a table, a hand cupped around a steaming mug of something, her head down on her other arm, those loose spiral curls spilling down over one shoulder. In that baggy sweater, the sleeves still pushed up from cleaning, her faded jeans, and battered sneakers, she looked oddly forlorn there.

"That's her, alright." My jaw tightened and I absently folded the list of addresses, tucking it into a pocket in my suit jacket. "I wonder if she's alright. She looks..."

"Like you should go check on her." Shizuo lit up his cigarette. "I'm headed home. If you're worried about her, go talk to her." He shrugged and turned to head off down the street, raising one hand in an absent wave goodbye.

_Well... _I looked back at Naomi, took a deep breath, looked both ways, and crossed the street. _When he put it like that..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: _Naomi_**

_Damn _it. What had I gotten myself into? Shuya was a leech. I knew that. I couldn't even remember what I'd seen in him in the first place anymore. He'd probably had some kind of criminal charm to draw me in. I realize this. So... Why wasn't I plotting how to cut my losses and kick him out when I got home?

"Naomi?"

My heart thudded against my ribcage in alarm as I jerked upright, almost spilling the hot chocolate that I'd neglected and let linger – and cool – in my right hand. Great. Now Tom had seen me dressed like a bum _and_ in mid-meltdown, all in one crappy day. And from the hesitant drag he'd given my name, he knew it, too.

"Are you alright?" The expression behind the thin-rimmed glasses was concerned... And maybe a little alarmed at how I had reacted. Overreacted, I mean.

I felt heat flare up to the tips of my ears. Tom was hardly scary. In fact, so far he'd been one of the kindest, fairest men I had met. And here I was, acting scared of him? I had to admit, that made me feel like a royal bitch. As much as I didn't care for swearing, the term _was_ accurate at the moment.

"Tom," I was glad I sounded as embarrassed as I felt. The smile on my lips felt awkward and shaky, but I held it. "You startled me, sorry." I lifted the cup to my lips and took a drink, waiting for my face to cool down. "Do you need something? He didn't rack up another debt already, did he? Or are you here to tell me I need to replace a wall in my apartment or something?" I hesitated, lowering the cup and adding, "If I do, I hope you took pictures of what happened, because I wholeheartedly feel he deserved it. And I would want to see it. It'd be better than cable right about now."

It was Tom's turn to look a little startled. He gave a surprised laugh, resting his hand on the back of the chair across from me. "No, nothing like that. We left right behind you, apartment and deadbeat intact. You just... You looked upset. I wanted to check and make sure you were alright."

_Alriiight, maybe I don't get to stop blushing._ "I'm okay... Thank you." I gave him a smile that I hope was as grateful as I felt. "I was just so annoyed. I've never been in debt in my whole life. I don't understand how he can do that, have no job and just gamble all of his money away." I shook my head, looking down into my cup at the dark, still steaming liquid inside. "I mean, sure, sometimes he does win. But most of the time he loses. Loses big time. And..." I hesitated, glancing back up at Tom.

The silence apparently spoke volumes to him, because he tilted his head and slowly pulled the chair out. "Can I sit?"

I bit my lip to hide my awkward smile. "Sure, I don't mind. Suit yourself."

Tom nodded and sat down, propped his chin on his hand and looked across the table at me. "There's more to that story. Trust me, I'm familiar enough with it by now to know. Tell me? Maybe it'll make you feel better, to let someone else know."

I felt my heart flutter in my chest. Swallowing hard, I ducked my head again. Weird. I hadn't felt something like that since I was in high school.

"It probably would be a story you hear a lot, wouldn't it? And... I don't have any proof yet, I'm just worried... That he might be getting in debt to other people besides your boss..."

I didn't need to finish that sentence for him to understand. His jaw set and he added it himself. "The Yakuza."

I nodded. "And that... Well, it scares me. I don't like to think of what the Yakuza would do if they came to my door, but even without imagining it, I know they wouldn't be anywhere near as polite as you and Shizuo are about collecting."

Tom looked a little perturbed by the idea himself. "You're right about that one... Though you might be the first person to actually call Shizuo and myself polite."

I shrugged. "You've never done anything wrong by me. I blame the idiots that try to run for the reputation you guys have. And they deserve whatever they get. You're doing your jobs, which is a lot more than I'm sure half of them are doing."

I could have sworn I saw a blush tint Tom's cheeks, but it was faint and the waning sunlight cast his face partially in shadow. "Thanks," he said. "But seriously... You should confront him about this, if you're worried. Or dump him. A girl like you? He doesn't deserve you. You should leave him in the gutter where he belongs."

"I know I should. I tried to get up the nerve to dump him when he pulled that stunt the last time you guys came around, but..." I shook my head. "I couldn't do it. Just... Couldn't bring myself to." That I could speak this lucidly while ignoring the things Tom's statement of _he doesn't deserve you_ did to my heart. God, I was like a school girl with a crush.

Was I?

"I-I know I should dump him. If this keeps up, I _am_ going to. It's just... Not as easy to do as you think. I don't know why." I rubbed my temples with my free hand. "Thank you for listening to this, Tom. I'm sure you have better things to do." I felt a wry smile on my lips. "I didn't mean to bellyache like that. It annoyed me, so I can only imagine how it sounded."

"I didn't mind listening," Tom replied simply, giving me a look of rather intense scrutiny before dipping a hand in a pocket of his suit, coming up with a handkerchief. I blinked. I hadn't even noticed I was crying. I accepted it sheepishly and dabbed at my eyes, buffing the tears away before handing it back, and he stuffed it back in his pocket, waving off my thanks. "It wasn't a problem. I wanted to be sure you're okay... So," he pulled my napkin across the table toward himself, coming back out of his pocket with a pen, scrawling his number down on the flimsy white paper and sliding it back to me. "If any of that does happen, and you need help... Call me, alright?"

My heart immediately jumped into my throat and I felt my eyes widen a little. For a moment, all I really did was stare at the napkin and how his fingertips lingered in the far edge, waiting for me to accept it. Okay... I was pretty sure this answered my question as to whether I was a school girl with a crush. I was a _teacher_ with a school girl's crush. Go figure, I'd thought I was too old to fall for that noble prince figure.

Who was I kidding? That was a big part of the attraction. Tom was good looking, sure, but, for me, it was more important that he seemed so... Honest, kind, polite, and clean. Some part of me knew that I needed a hard working, decent guy, exactly the opposite of what I had waiting for me at home, and I liked what I saw in Tom. I felt like I could breathe around him.

Hesitantly, I took the napkin, and he lifted his fingers to let me slide it away from him.

"Thanks again, Tom... I'll do that." I got up and neatly tucked the napkin into the pocket of my jeans. Before I lost my nerve, I reached over and briefly rested my free hand on top of his on the table. It was nothing more than a light touch, seconds long, but it had my stomach fluttering nervously. "You were not made for this line of work you're in."

With that, I turned and walked off, headed back to my apartment, all the while acutely aware of the man I was walking away from. It was insane, I hadn't been this self conscious in years. I hoped, as I melted into the crowd, that he would take what I had said well. After all, all I had intended was that... He was a sweetheart. He wasn't suited for a job where you practically had to beat your paycheck out of people. Granted, he did what he had to, I imagined, but... It didn't suit him.

It wasn't until I was unlocking my front door that I remembered my abandoned drink at the diner. Huh. Well, there went another drop in the bucket. Here's hoping Tom had enjoyed it before he left.

After all, inadvertently buying him hot chocolate on a cool day was the least I could do. After all, for an hour, he'd let me feel a little free again.

And could anyone put a price on that?


End file.
